


Memory Lane

by TheMysteriousStoryteller



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Childhood Trauma, Gen, Kinda, Sad boi hours, Self-Hatred, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 19:51:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18644953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMysteriousStoryteller/pseuds/TheMysteriousStoryteller
Summary: A trip down memory lane could be quite the double-edged sword.





	Memory Lane

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I'm so, so sorry for not posting something in like, a month. I've been really depressed lately, and it was hard to get motivation. So, take this shitty vent story. It's not that great, but...I wanna get back in the mood for writing. Regardless, I hope you guys enjoy. Bless.

A trip down memory lane can start in the most innocuous way: you could be listening to a certain song that brings back a vivid memory. All of a sudden, the music seems to paint a familiar picture in your head; a scene from your past plays out as the music becomes mere background noise. Your memory may be terrible(whether that be your choice or not), yet for some reason, this moment seemed to have been perfectly captured and kept safe in the form of music. It invokes such a strong feeling that sometimes, you have to skip to another song. 

A certain smell or touch can do this, too. You’re walking somewhere, and you suddenly catch a whiff of something that brings back a tidal wave of memories and emotions. Or, something or someone can brush against you, and suddenly you’re thrown into the past, reliving certain moments that you can’t let go of. It’s overwhelming, most of the time. Your throat closes up, and you can barely breathe. Once again, your senses have betrayed you. As much as you try to forget, they never seem to follow your lead. You laugh, finding it funny how you can’t even control your own body. 

Sometimes, though, you willingly take the path down memory lane. 

Things had been rough; life wasn’t going your way, and you had forgotten why you even bothered to continue living. And then, while you were trudging around your room and lamenting over your pathetic existence, you found a binder. A green, slightly worn, untitled binder that was exactly like one that a kid would carry around at school. However, you knew that binder wasn’t for school. You stepped forward, eyeing it as if it were an enemy. But, it was just a glorified book; it couldn’t hurt you. So, you opened the binder to the first page. It isn’t exactly a page, though. Rather, it’s a clear sleeve used to hold papers, pictures, and anything that someone would want to keep safe. 

Your eyes focus on the first picture. You were face to face with your younger self, all grins and bright eyes. You moved to sit in the chair, brushing your bangs out of your face to get a better look at yourself. 

How odd. You looked so….happy. Even if you couldn’t experience it now, you could distantly feel the aura of energy that radiated from the younger you in the picture. It dawned on you that you didn’t look  _ that  _ young. In fact, you only looked about nine or ten in the picture. That was only six or seven years ago, wasn’t it? Had you already become so depressed and lethargic in the span of a little over five years? 

You looked at the next picture on the page. Yet again, it was another picture of you. However, this time, your parents were standing next to you. Your eyes narrowed. Could you even really call them your parents? After all, they barely raised you. They were only really around when you were that naive, energetic, and happy kid. Shortly after highschool, they had pretty much dipped, and left you to raise yourself. Or, maybe they thought your friends and their parents would raise you and carry the burden of being around you, so that they didn’t have to? Or, maybe they never liked you. Maybe it was a mix? You didn’t know. And, at this point, you could care less. With a turn of the page, you turned away from your animosity toward your parents for a few moments. Your heart swelled with something different as you catch a picture of your older brother and yourself, with your arms around each other’s shoulders and big grins. You let out a sigh, faintly hearing the sound of an acoustic guitar echo through your head. Looking back in the corner of your room, you saw your brother’s old acoustic. He had left for college years ago, but he left it behind as...something to remember him by? A token of his love? Oh, that was wishful thinking, though. He probably just forgot to bring it with him. 

You moved on to the next picture, your breath hitching in your throat as you saw the sight of your best —no,  _ ex _ -best friend. You—You  _ hated  _ him now. That’s what you told yourself, at least. You tried to not dwell on the matter further, and flipped to the next page, never wanting to see his face again. The iron grip on your throat relaxed as you saw your real best friend. In the picture, you and him were playing together in the front yard of his house. In the other picture on the page, you two had your arms around in each other in a big hug. You bit your lip and stifled a pitiful laugh, knowing that there was  _ no way  _ that something like that would happen now. 

You could recall how nice your best friend was as a child. He was a sweet, kind of shy kid. You couldn’t help but wonder what happened once they hit highschool; when suddenly, you were in a war and always playing on the defensive. You loved your friend, but sometimes...it felt like you always had to be ready to defend yourself, and you wondered if he actually liked you, or if he kept you around out of some emotional obligation. After all, you  _ were  _ just a burden, right? He was a popular kid now; he didn’t need you. No one needed you. 

You continued to flip through the pages, winding deeper and deeper down memory lane. For a few moments, you could picture yourself in every setting, though you didn’t vividly remember all of them. However, you could never forget the warmth of the bright sun, or being embraced by someone you loved; you could never forget how much you smiled, and how much your friends smiled back; you could never forget what it felt like to be naively happy. 

At some point, you had made a wrong turn. You were somewhere else: somewhere familiar, but you wished it wasn’t. A random pop song was echoing through your head, but all you could feel was your skin crawling. Feeling touches in places you shouldn’t. The nausea building up. Your mind fading into static. It was so vivid, yet so cloudy. You wanted to  _ scream _ , to  _ run,  _ to do  _ something _ . It hurt, it hurt, it hurt—

You had been crying. It didn’t occur to you until you heard the concerned meows of your cats. You looked over, seeing them eyeing you with wide eyes. You took in a deep, shaky breath, slamming the book shut and shoving it anyway from yourself. You forcefully threw yourself out of memory lane, and back into the present. As you reached down to pet your cats, them purring and brushing against your hands, you tried to calm yourself down. That was in the past. It didn’t matter anymore. You wouldn’t let it affect you! You’re not a coward! You’re not a  _ victim _ ! 

You got up to lay back down in bed. The mattress creaked and bounced a bit as you flopped down, but you ignored it, just like how you ignored the blinking notification light of your phone. Whoever it was didn’t need you, anyway. You were sure that there was someone better that they were talking to anyway. Who’d wanna talk to you, anyway? You were just some sad, pathetic, little kid. Everyone liked you more when you were happy, and now that you’re not, they could care less. 

You curled up in your bed, contemplating getting up and burning that fucking binder until it was a pile of forgotten ashes. However, you were too tired to do so. Of course, you were too tired to do  _ anything _ at this point. All you could do was the usual: go to sleep, and pray that tomorrow would never come. 


End file.
